Happy Endings
by Archer
Summary: For those of you that know this story from looong ago, it's being revised and stuck back up. For those of you that don't, the Low King has been kidnapped and it's up to Vimes to sort it out...
1. Default Chapter

Hi all! Please review if you think I should write any more!  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, places, etc…they all belong to Pterry. Please don't sue.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1.  
  
  
  
Pale gray light streamed through the windows, Sam Vimes woke up. He swung his legs out of bed and, glancing at the clock, saw it was five in the morning.  
  
He groaned, the meant he'd only had four hours sleep. He snuggled back under the duvet and tried again, it didn't help that Sybil was snoring with devastating force beside him. It wasn't going to work. He sighed and lay awake, staring at the ceiling.  
  
* * *  
  
Havelock Vetinari had been awake since 3:30, working his way through the mountains of paperwork on his desk. Every so often, various clerks would bring in more, until there was serious traffic congestion in the corridor as it all piled up out side the Oblong Office and started to invade the next room.  
  
But still, he got enough done to earn about two hours sleep a night, if he slept at all.  
  
He had just finished reading another complaint by Lord Rust against commander Vimes for looking at him in a funny way and "Being a bloody disgrace to a shabby uniform." and last but not least: "Refusing to answer any of my letters on ethnic minorities." Which, Vetinari mused, was not surprising, considering their content, when there was a knock at the door.  
  
* * *  
  
Meanwhile Samuel Vimes was eating breakfast, rock-hard toast and bacon you could make a satisfactory pair of boots out of, and reading the Times.  
  
 "Says here that pollution is making the air dangerous, Gods, I didn"t know it could get any worse." He said, pulling on his armour. Kissing Sybil and telling her not to lift anything heavy or upset or strain herself in any way, in fact, why didn't she just stay in bed all day? Set off on the walk to Psuedopolis Yard.  
  
It really was a beautiful day, the sun shining bright, birds coughing in trees, the busy city unashamedly taking money off some innocent newcomer or other. Even the river was dragging out the last days of summer, with colourful but quickly dying trees spread along the crust.  
  
As Vimes walked through all this, he thought about the future. Duke of Ankh, soon to be a father, Gods, that was frightening, a job he wouldn't give up for the world and a sensible, loving wife. All seemingly poised for a happy ending, and Vimes wondered cynically what the future would bring because, as much as wanted to, he didn't really believe in happy endings.  
  
The Watch was ticking along fine now, apart from the occasional hiccup. The latest being another speaking-tube disaster. After a student wizard had made an impassioned plea for help in finding his wayward familiar, one of the tubes had developed a life of its own, nearly strangling Constable Visit, who proclaimed it an instrument of evil and with Vimes's permission ( he'd never liked it anyway) had had the entire system torn out.  
  
He was actually a bit bored. He hadn't been pushing himself lately. Used to being so overworked he twanged like stretched elastic, he now found winding down impossible. Walking through the Watch house door he reflected, that although the anger that usually drove him was slowly melting away, there was at least one man who could always be counted on to really piss him off.  
  
* * *  
  
 "So you see the situation is grave my Lord." Said the fat man wrapped in purple and gold robes, he had a serious expression on his face and looked even more tired than Vetinari.  
  
 "If the Low King is not found within a month, Albrecht will take over and another power struggle for the country will begin." The man sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, Albrecht is not so good-tempered as the present king as you no doubt know already" he paused "And so you see my problem." He finished lamely.  
  
 "And you believe that Commander Vimes can solve this?" said the patrician. The fat man opened his mouth, "oh, I've no doubt he could," Vetinari said quickly "But he is needed here."  
  
 "Understood sir." The fat man sighed again. "But this is a matter of vital importance." He pulled a parchment scroll out of his robes and placed it on Vetinari's desk. "That is the formal letter requesting the assistance of Commander Vimes in this case, I will be staying at the embassy when you would notify me of your descision." The patrician nodded and unrolled the letter. The fat man left quietly.  
  
It was indeed a formal letter asking for the help of Commander Vimes in finding the low king and his kidnappers. The words "vital importance" were used three times.  
  
He got up and crossed the room, touching a certain part of the wall that looked just like the rest. It swung back to reveal a dark passageway.  
  
Vetinari walked down the passage, muttering to himself, standing there for fully ten minutes trying to remember which bloody stone to step on before noon, on a waning moon, on a Sunday in the month of May.  
  
Ten minutes later, having located the stone, he knocked on a heavy oak door and turned the key in the lock.  
  
* * *  
  
Captain Carrot knocked on Vimes' office door. Getting no reply, he went in and found his Commander asleep at his desk. He laid his report next to Vimes' head and crept out.  
  
 "Asleep" he mouthed to Angua who was standing outside. Muffled snores came through the wood. Carrot smiled.  
  
 " We'd better leave him." He said.  
  
 " It's not as though we can persuade him to take the day off." Angua laughed.  
  
The snoring got louder.  
  
Carrot turned to go out on patrol when the door opened for him and a troll lumbered in.  
  
 " Is der Commander here?" it rumbled.  
  
 "Er….he's a bit busy right now.." Carrot said. "why?"  
  
 "Only, der patrician requires his attindis, no..his er..attenanc…er.."  
  
 " Attendance?" suggested Angua  
  
 "Dats der one." Said the troll "now."  
  
 "Well…" Carrot began, when the door to Vimes' office opened and the Commander peered out.  
  
 "What's going on captain?" he asked.  
  
 " His lordship wishes to see you now sir." Said Carrot.  
  
Vimes groaned: "Oh hells, that's all I need." The troll spoke up again: " He said it were urgent."  
  
 "Alright! Alright!" Vimes yelled, putting his helmet back on: "I'm going already!"  
  
* * *  
  
Lord Vetinari sat glumly in his chair, staring into space with his chin in his hand. The only motivation he had to do the paperwork was more paperwork if he didn't, and now he had to tell Vimes to go back to bloody Uberwald.  
  
Leonard's even-faster-coffee machine had exploded, soaking them both. Leonard has gone to fix the damn machine and Vetinari was so deep in thought he hardly noticed. Only when he was back in oblong office and Drumknott had politely asked if everything was alright did he realize he was soaking wet and covered in coffee.  
  
Now, in dry clothes, still-wet hair falling to his shoulders, he looked under his desk.  At least the coffee smell should drown out Wuffles he thought.  
  
He started as there was a knock at the door.  
  
 "Come in."  
  
Vimes entered the office, noting the patricians obviously wet hair and the stink of coffee, wondering briefly if there had been an assassination attempt by a caffeine-wielding maniac.  
  
 "Please sit down commander."  
  
Vimes sat.  
  
The patrician handed Uberwalds formal letter to Vimes, whose look of confusion turned to one of despair as he read.  
  
Finally he looked up, all speculations as to why Vetinari was covered in coffee forgotten.  
  
 "You're not serious?" he asked incredulously .  
  
Vetinari was silent.  
  
 "I mean, they've got enough watchmen over there as it is, and it's not as if I know the place well." Vimes continued.  
  
Silence.  
  
 "Just because I helped out last time…"  
  
 "Saved the day, actually." Cut in Vetinari.  
  
 "Or whatever." Vimes said, a little louder this time. "How did it happen?" he mused aloud  "the Low King's not stupid."  
  
The patrician shrugged.  
  
 "Doubtless you will find out when you get there." He said.  
  
Vimes glared at him. If looks could kill Vetinari would be laid out on a slab.  
  
 "Look Vimes." He snapped uncharacteristically "I didn't write it, I don't particularly want you to go since you've only really just got back from the wretched place, and I don't expect you want to leave Sybil right now."  
  
 "Damn right I don't!" said Vimes vehemently  
  
 " Nevertheless…" said the patrician, he paused, and Vimes saw just how tired he looked.  
  
He actually felt a bit guilty for giving the man a hard time over this, the baby wasn't actually due yet and Sybil was more than capable of looking after herself. Not forgetting the consequences if he didn't accept, if the Low King wasn't found or was killed and he'd done nothing to help when he'd had the chance. He'd always wonder…wouldn't he? What kind of copper would that make him? And Vetinari was looking stressed enough without this on top of him as well. Of course, the blame wouldn't fall squarely on him would it? Vetinari would be got at because he hadn't forced him to go…Damn!  
  
Vetinari's head was bent over the paperwork, reading a document in tiny print.  
  
 "Alright." he said eventually "I'll go, but I'm not happy about it."  
  
 " Thank you." The patrician massaged his temples with his fingers and sighed. Vimes took in the monstrous piles of paper covering desk and floor.  
  
 "Um…" he began.  
  
Vetinari looked up .  
  
  " I'll just go and…" He mumbled, getting up.  
  
 "Start packing?" said Vetinari  
  
. "Right."  
  
 "And I shall inform Uberwald that you are on your way."  
  
Vimes stopped before the door.  
  
 "You don't think the werewolves are involved again do you?" he said "sir?"  
  
Vetinari was about to reply with something fairly cutting. when he stopped.  
  
 " I don't know Vimes." He said  "I hope not.".  
  
And he bent his head over the paperwork again.  
  
Vimes shut the door quietly behind him, he didn't even thump the wall.  
  
He was too busy worrying about what Sybil was going to say. He left the palace, and began the walk home, puffing away on his cigar.  
  
  
To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: HELP!!! I CAN'T GET ANY ITALICS TO SHOW UP! They look fine on Word but don't show when I upload...Why? If anyone can help, I would be extremely grateful…thank you.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  


 " HE WHAAAAAAT!?"  
  
 "Now Sybil, can you imagine the consequences if I don't go?"  
  
Lady Sybil, red in the face and obviously furious, stormed out of the bedroom, sweeping her husband aside.  
  
 "We'll see about this." She said grimly.  
  
* * *  
  
Lord Vetinari was sorting through the papers on his desk when he heard: "HAVELOCK VETINARI YOU WAIT 'TILL I GET MY BLOODY HANDS ON YOU!" from the corridor outside his office. With great presence of mind, he ducked behind his desk.  
  
Which was just as well as the door was thrown open and a very angry Ex-Ramkin hurled a milk jug at the empty space where he would otherwise have been sitting.  
  
Vetinari heard a panicked  "Sybil what the hells do you think you're doing!" from Sam Vimes before Drumknott ran in.  
  
"Is everythi…" he started, before he was knocked out cold with a punch that would have totalled an elephant, or cause it severe concussion at least.  
  
 "NOW OF ALL TIMES, WHEN I REALLY, REALLY NEED HIM!" she yelled at Vetinari "YOU JUST GO AND…YOU JUST…I know you're behind your desk." She faltered.  
  
"Sybil, this really isn't his fault, he didn't even want me to go!" Vimes said, desperately trying to calm her down.  
  
Vetinari risked peering over the top of his desk. He opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by a Medusa-type glare from Lady Sybil.   
  
There was an unbearably long pause.  
  
Sybil then did something totally unexpected.  
  
She burst into tears.  
  
Vimes stood there with his mouth open. He'd only seen Sybil cry over excessive cruelty to dragons, The Bloodaxe and Ironhammer opera and the incident with the bandits in Wilinus Pass. When you were a Ramkin (or a Vimes for that matter) you generally shunned tears, got on with things and jolly well didn't whine about whatever card fate had dealt you.  
  
 " I'm s-sorry" Sybil wept "I know I'm all over the p-place at the moment and it's not your fault the King's gone missing Havelock, but Sam's job can make things so difficult at times, especially now."  
  
She blew her nose noisily.  
  
Her husband looked at her helplessly. He then risked a look at the patrician; the man looked relieved that the worst seemed to be over.   
  
Vetinari caught Vimes looking at him and quickly composed his face into a carefully blank expression.  
  
Vimes quickly turned back to Sybil.  
  
 "I think." He said, " That we should be going now Sybil."  
  
He glanced at the patrician who nodded slowly.  
.  
As they left, Vimes was so preoccupied, he fell over Drumknott.  
  
* * *  
  
Igor shuffled along a candle-lit corridor, muttering to himself.  
  
He descended a heavily creaking stairway, finally arriving at a large stone slab in the wall.  
  
He pushed it open.  
  
The room beyond was a dark crypt, furnished only with a coffin in the centre.  
  
Igor knocked softly on the lid. It was pushed aside a fraction.  
  
 "Vell?" said a voice.  
  
 " Your Ladythip did say to tell you if there wath any newth." Lisped Igor.  
  
 " Yes? Vot is it?" the voice said again, sounding excited.  
  
 " Vimeth ith on hith way now Mithtreth."  
  
The coffin lid was thrown aside completely and Lady Margolotta sat up, her eyes shining.  
  
 " Really?"   she said, "now that IS good news."  
  
 "Yes Mithtreth." Said Igor.  
  
 " I vonder if his second visit will be any better than his first?"   
  
* * *  
  
Sam Vimes was meanwhile treading very carefully around his wife. After the spectacle at the palace, she had promptly retired to bed, saying she was exhausted after her emotional outburst.  
  
Like trying to smash Vetinari's head in with a milk jug had just slipped her mind and wasn't a hanging offence.  
  
If it were me, Vimes mused, I'd never sleep again. Actually, he corrected himself; I wouldn't have the chance to sleep again.  
  
He was leaving later that day for Uberwald. Suddenly, leaving Sybil for a while didn't seem like such a bad idea. He cursed himself for thinking like this, but then again, he didn't want to be next on her hit list.  
  
* * *  
  
Drumknott came to.  
  
In Vetinari's bed.   
  
He'd worked for him for almost six years and the schoolboy crush he'd had on the man had never gone away.  
  
Finally, he thought in his muzzy state, it had taken him long enough.  
  
He tried to sit up, but for some reason his head hurt like mad…then it all swam into focus.  
  
1: the man standing over him was not Vetinari; it was Vetinari's physician.  
  
2: he was fully clothed.  
  
3: since when did a pounding headache feature in ANY fantasy involving your boss? Except possibly the one where you hit them with a lump hammer?  
  
The man above him spoke: "How are you feeling?" he said. " That was a pretty nasty punch you took."  
  
Taking in Drumknotts' confused expression he added: "We moved you in here…it was the closest bedroom."  
  
Drumknott sank back onto the pillows.  
  
Bugger.  
  
* * *  
  
Vimes was now packed and ready to go, he kissed a still tearful Sybil goodbye and climbed into the waiting carriage. He was sharing it with a very fat man in purple and gold robes who introduced himself as one Ulrich Von Uberwald, a sort of secondary ambassador to the country.  
  
 " I'm afraid I have bad news." He said.  
  
 "What, more?" said Vimes sarcastically as the carriage trundled through the gates of the city.  
  
Ulrich appeared not to notice,  
  
 " Some of Albrecht's supporters have burnt down the Ankh-Morporkian embassy." He said patiently.  
  
Vimes stared at him open mouthed.  
  
 "Was there anyone there at the time?" He said eventually.  
  
 "Only the resident Igor sir." Said Ulrich.  
  
 " Well, they're experts at patching themselves up." Said Vimes.  
  
Ulrich smiled briefly.  
  
 "Very amusing sir, this puts us in a difficult position as you can see."  
  
 " Yes, I see."  Said Vimes impatiently " So where am I staying?"  
  
 "Er, let me see." Said Ulrich, sorting through his notes "Ah yes, with the Lady Margolotta Von Uberwald sir."  
  
He saw Vimes' horrified expression and leaned forward anxiously.  
  
 "That is alright isn't it?" he said. " I think the werewolves might accommodate if…"  
  
Vimes' eyes nearly popped out. Did this man know what had happened the last time Vimes had seen the werewolves? Talk about the lesser of two evils!  
  
 "No" he croaked finally, "That's fine."  
  
* * *  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Author's note…hello again all…I'm back! (Half hearted groans all round)….

Disclaimer:   I own nothing in this story apart from the Shadowkin and the plot…all other characters, places, etc belong to Terry Pratchett.

So then…

Chapter 3

Just over a week later Sam Vimes found himself standing outside the massive doors to Lady Margolotta's huge, sprawling castle.

He raised a hand to knock and the doors swung back.

"Hello again Igor."

"Oh, hello again thur" what would have been a delighted smile on anyone else spread across the servants face.

"How's Igor?" Vimes asked politely

"He'th fine thur, jutht got a new job, perthonal athithtant to Thrieking Doctor Lobotomy."

"Oh…good" Vimes paused." Igor's getting on well in Ankh-Morpork." he said.

"Really? Oh, that ith good, Igor and Igor will be tho pleased."

Igor gestured to the doors

"Whatever am I thinking of?" he said. "Come in thur, her ladythip ith ecthpecting you."

Vimes followed him into the castle. Lady Margolotta was waiting for him; there was a welcoming glass of lemonade on a low table.

"Sir Samuel, how vonderful to see you again" she said. gesturing to an empty chair.

Vimes sat down; he took a sip of the lemonade.

"Thanks, the feeling's entirely mutual." He said with more than a little acid in his voice.

Margolotta nodded.

"I understand how sudden this is." She said. "Frankly, the whole dvarf community is in turmoil and the news has already vinged it's vay to Ankh-Morpork. I hope your Vatch vill be able to control the inevitable riots."

Vimes thought for a minute. "Yes, I think so." He said, "The sooner he's found the better obviously"

"Of course" said the vampire. She got up and poured herself a drink. Vimes watched her sip the red liquid.

She looked up

"Does it bother you?" She asked.

"No, no, not at all." Vimes said quickly, breaking out of his semi-trance.

An awkward silence passed between them, Lady Margolotta opened her mouth to speak but shut it again as If she had suddenly thought the better of it.

She smiled brightly at him.

" I hear congratulations are in order." She said.

Vimes looked blank

"Lady Sybil?" she prompted.

"Oh yes!" Vimes started "yes, thank you."

"How is she coping?"

Vimes was about to tell her about the incident in the Oblong Office but stopped himself. He had heard rumors that this vampire had once been, or still was…er… romantically involved with Vetinari, he didn't want to risk being the object of violence for another woman after she learned that his wife had tried to smash her beloved's head in with a daisy-patterned milk jug.

" She's fine." He said " A bit moody, but fine."

"Ah"

The silence was back, with a vengeance.

" So" said Vimes at last "Where do I start tomorrow?"

"You vill be taken down to the mines." Said Margolotta. " The dvarves who vitnessed the incident are in custody and are being interviewed as ve speak, basically, everyvone's a suspect."

Vimes nodded, he knew that situation well enough, there wasn't enough evidence to point the finger at any particular person, so just to be on the safe side you pointed the finger at everyone.

He finished his lemonade.

"You've had an exhausting journey Sir Samuel." Said Lady Margolotta. "Vhy don't you get some rest."

Vimes had to agree, his body felt as though it were slowly turning into lead. Even small talk about kidnapped dwaves couldn't keep him awake.

He followed Igor up the staircase to his room and crashed out gratefully on the large bed with a head full of uneasy fog.

            *                                           *                                              *

Downstairs, having dismissed Igor, Lady Margolotta paced up and down the room aimlessly.

Damn foolish pride, what was wrong with asking about the man anyway? It's not as if anyone could accuse her of being some lovesick teenager…or even lovesick 340 year old.

She smiled to herself.

It had been a long while since she had really allowed herself to wallow in memories of Vetinari, for fear of becoming depressive. Now she sat back in her chair and did just that.

                                             *                                           *                                           *

Vimes moaned uneasily in his sleep, one hand rose to ward off invisible attackers. Heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, the high-pitched tinkling of smashing glass. A half-hand, half-paw crept around the edge of the door, jagged claws shredding the wood as if it were paper. A hideously disfigured Wolfgang slid into the room, jaws open in a vicious snarl. The claw that reached out to grab him changed into something that had once been a human hand. Vimes looked up into the pleading, mutilated face of Inigo Skimmer.

                                             *                                           *                                           *

Lady Margolotta was awoken from pleasant, if somewhat x-rated reveries by the piercing scream from above. She ran up the stairs and knocked twice on Vimes's door, getting no answer, she went in.

The commander was sitting bolt upright in bed and shaking violently.

Vimes became aware that someone else had entered the room, slowly; he focused on the figure moving towards him and cowered back instinctively as Lady Margolotta sat on the bed and lit a cigar for him.

*                                           *                                           *

About four hundred miles away, Lord Vetinari was jolted from political musings by a terrified scream.

He touched an apparently normal part of his desk and selected an evil looking knife from the drawer that slid opened soundlessly. He quickly crossed the room and flung the door back, coming face to face with a very surprised Drumknott who was just about to knock.

                                             *                                           *                                           *

"What was that about?" Lady Margolotta asked quietly.

There was a heavy pause.

"Just a dream." Said Vimes, equally quietly.

The vampire waited patiently.

"It was Wolfgang…and Inigo…what they did…" he stopped, unable to continue.

Lady Margolotta nodded and Vimes jumped a mile in the air as Igor materialized.

"Ith everything alright mithreth?" he asked.

"Yes Igor, everything's fine, thank you."

He de-materialized.

Vimes took a deep drag on the cigar and turned to Margolotta.

"Thank you." He said  "I'm alright." His heartbeat was slowly returning to its normal speed.

"If you're sure…" Lady Margolotta said doubtfully, the man was still trembling and had a vacant look in his eyes.

Vimes nodded. "I'm fine, really" he said, wishing he felt as confident as he sounded.

He didn't blow out the candle as the vampire left.

                                             *                                           *                                           *

"…So you didn't hear anything?"

"No sir, nothing."

Vetinari was actually puzzled. A scream of that blood-curdling intensity was usually hard to miss, except in the Shades where they were most emphatically not heard on a very regular basis.

But it had sounded so close, and so terrifyingly real…

Drumknott, as he was dismissed, wondered if the man was going mad.

What he didn't know was that Vetinari was vaguely wondering the same thing.

*                                           *                                           *

The dwarf paced his tiny prison over and over, back and forth.

He heard a cry, abruptly cut off, from the next cell.

Silence.

"H'gra grz-dak?" he called into the darkness, his expression a mixture of puzzlement and fear.

He heard an answering sigh, like the wind through trees behind him and turned to stare into gleaming eyes and shapeless, merciless death…

                                             *                                           *                                           *

Any good?…shall I continue..? Oh, go on, tell me…                                


End file.
